Nanowrimo is over so now I can get back to fics! Due to (a) very vocal demand, I updated this fic first.


"Would you like to go for a walk with me?"

"Yes, Grandpa!"

The white-haired man was behind him in an instant. The unit, no, Clear was nearly bouncing up and down on the spot. While the mask was still in place, he was positive that he was beaming.

It would be Clear's first time outside of the house since they arrived from Platinum Jail. While they only lived in a dump, he was sure that Clear would be amazed by everything he'd see.

Clear's head was turning to look at everything about him the whole time. He had to hold his hand to keep him moving at some points. Still, he smiled fondly at the boy.

"Grandpa, what's that?"

"That's a bicycle."

"What is it for?"

"It's to help you go faster."

"Ohhh."

Clear walked up to something sticking out of a pile with a white handle. He gently tugged it out and held it up right before him.

"What's this, Grandpa?"

He examined it closely. Past the dirt and grime on it, he saw that it was a clear, plastic umbrella. He opened it and raised up. He was surprised to see that besides it being dirty, it was otherwise undamaged.

"It's an umbrella," he answered. "A very good umbrella."

"What is it used for?" Clear asked with a tilt of his head.

"It's to protect your head from things that are falling," he replied. He held it up over their heads to show him what he meant. "See?"

"Oh!" Clear held his hands out eagerly. "May I hold it?"

He handed Clear the umbrella. With the white shirt, white boots, and white hair, he found that it oddly suited him. The robot immediately held it over him, leaving himself almost completely uncovered.

"I'm protecting you, Grandpa!" Clear said brightly.

He let out a laugh. "That you are!"

They continued the rest of their walk with the umbrella hanging over them.


Once they were home, they cleaned off the umbrella. They saw that it was for the most part, unscratched. So, he allowed Clear to keep it once he asked what they were going to do with it.

They were both reading over the encyclopedia when suddenly, he noticed Clear grow quieter than usual. His hands were curled up in his lap and his head was hanging low.

"Clear?" He set the book down and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Ah, um..." Clear looked down to his lap. "Grandpa... I have something to ask you."

"You can ask me anything," he said sincerely. "What is it?"

He lifted up a hand and pointed it to his face. Or rather, his mask. "What is this?" His voice was meek and nervous. "I know I had asked this before but... I wanted to ask again. What is this?"

"It's a mask," he said. He didn't like the serious tone that Clear had. He let his hand fall back to his side. It made him feel guilty for telling him to keep the mask on.

However... it was for his own safety.

"What is it used for?"

"It's meant to hide your face. That's why I tell you to keep it on."

"Why?"

He nearly cringed at that. It was the closest he ever heard to Clear sounding sad. He put a hand on each of his shoulders, making him look up to him. He was close enough to see the faint melancholy in his eyes.

But he couldn't tell Clear about Toue. He couldn't let him be discovered. He couldn't let him go back to that. Not after he had started developing a heart.

He had to tell him something. He didn't want to lie but...

"It's because..." he said quietly. "Your face looks different from everyone else's."

"...It is?" Clear asked him.

"Yes. So... You can't take it off. Not ever."

Clear took in a breath. It was weighted and slow. He almost thought he heard a sniffle, so he immediately pulled Clear close to him in a hug. Clear felt stiff. He didn't make a move to return the gesture, just resting his head against his shoulder.

"Is that why I can't go shopping with you?"

"Yes."

"I see... Grandpa, you know what I look like, right?"

"Yes..." he said hesitantly.

"Could you tell me what I look like?" he asked curiously. "Do I look like you?"

He shook his head. "No. I can't tell you."

"...Okay."

He sounded so defeated.

Clear pulled himself out of the hug and stood up. He walked toward the kitchen without looking back at him.

"I'll just... make dinner," the unit said stiffly.

"Clear, I..."

But Clear had already left the room without looking back at him. He slumped his shoulders and hung his head. He knew that he couldn't tell it- him the truth, but he didn't want Clear to react that badly.

He wished for a day where he and Clear could walk around freely.

No masks, no worrying about Toue, no lying to the only person he had.

But for now, that was the way it had to be.

God, this was rushed... Oh well.

Review, please!